


boy you’re mine, mine, mine

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Bad Parenting, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: everything isn’t fixed. eliott knows that. he knows that he didn’t magically fix all of lucas’s broken parts with a few sweet words and a couple of kisses. that’d be naïve of him. but there’s one thought through it all that makes it worth it: the scariest things to him are nothing to lucas.





	boy you’re mine, mine, mine

**Author's Note:**

> title (kind of) from animal by troye sivan
> 
> potential tw for lucas’s father being the biggest piece of shit ever and lucas being very sad about it and also some dark thoughts from eliott @himself
> 
> eliott loves him so much ugh it’s gross really.
> 
> (also: i didn’t edit this pls be nice i’m tired)

there’s light streaming through the curtains, but only just barely. eliott stares at it, at the whitish blue light that’s bathing his room, and tries to blink away the grogginess. he doesn’t know why he’s woken up so early—6:12am, according to the clock on his desk—but he feels too awake to fall back asleep, now. and anyway, his throat is scratchy and he really needs to pee. 

he sighs, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. so much for sleeping in, then. he pulls his duvet back and sets his feet on the floor, sitting up properly so he can stretch. 6:13am. he stands, makes his way out of his bedroom and towards the bathroom. 

his mother is awake, he discovers, on his way to the kitchen. she’s wrapped in her bathrobe and eating breakfast, scrolling through her Facebook. she smiles at him when she sees him come in, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. 

“up so early, darling?”

“yeah,” eliott mumbles, voice rough and calloused with sleep, “i don’t know why. but now i can’t fall back asleep.”

his mother hums, offering him the remainder of her breakfast. he takes one slice of toast and, after drinking a full glass of water, eats it in four bites. he can feel her eyes on him, appraising. he turns his back—knows why she’s looking at him like that, and resents it quietly. she means well, eliott knows that. she’s his  _ mom,  _ of course she’s always concerned and worried about him. he just wishes it wasn’t like that. wishes he could eat and drink and have it be  _ normal.  _

_ normal is subjective,  _ his father’s voice reminds him, in the back of his mind. he’d said it the day eliott broke into someone else’s house and they’d had to pick him up at the police station. they weren’t even angry at him, and eliott had gone off the rails.  _ be angry at me! yell at me! i just got arrested for breaking and entering, and you’re just looking at me like… like i’m a doll! i just want to be treated like i’m fucking normal! _

breaking and entering is, of course, not normal. eliott resents that, too. 

he turns to the fridge to get some eggs and milk, and then grabs a pan from the cupboard. him and his mother are both quiet while eliott gets started on scrambling some eggs, the only exchange being him asking if she wants any. she says no, and eliott isn’t surprised. he doesn’t know why he offered. just to break the tension, maybe. 

what does break the silence is the sound of eliott’s phone ringing. he digs it out of his pocket, frowning slightly when he sees lucas’s name across the screen. 6:41am. lucas shouldn’t be awake yet. 

he answers the call and then puts it on speaker, setting his phone aside so he can tend to his egg and avoid burning them. 

“good morning, baby. you’re up early,” he greets, and he doesn’t miss the way his mom smiles. but the line is quiet for a while, and it makes eliott start to get a little worried. “lucas?”

a whimper. “eliott,” lucas finally says, and it sounds breathy and weak, and eliott’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. is he… is lucas really… oh,  _ fuck,  _ and his mom is  _ right there.  _ eliott scrambles to move the pan off the burner and grab his phone before lucas can make another noise and embarrass himself further, but he’s too late. there’s another whimper, louder this time, and it makes eliott freeze once again. 

eliott knows lucas. like, knows almost everything there is to know about him. he knows how many moles there are on lucas’s back. he knows how lucas takes his coffee in the mornings. he knows that lucas’s favorite tv show is some silly cartoon. and he knows, of course, what lucas sounds like in bed. and that was  _ not  _ it. that wasn’t a moan, it was a cry. lucas is  _ crying.  _

he picks up his phone and turns off speaker, holding it to his ear. “baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, because he knows there’s something. lucas is never up before he has to be, and he definitely never calls eliott crying. he’d rather suffer in silence than make eliott worry, and that’s how he knows something has to be very, very wrong. “talk to me, darling. tell me what’s happening. are you okay?”

“yes,” lucas whispers, but then, “no. i don’t know, i just… i’m on my way over, i need to see you.”

“sweetheart, i could’ve come to yours.”

“i know, but— mika. i needed to be away from mika, he’s suffocating me.” 

the thought of lucas walking through paris at six o’clock in the morning, alone and crying, made eliott’s heart stop in his chest. “okay, baby, that’s okay. how far away are you?”

“i just got off the bus, so like, fifteen minutes? eliott, i don’t know what to do. i called you earlier and you didn’t answer—which is fine! i’m not upset or anything, it was like 6am on the dot and i didn’t expect you to be awake—but then i just started making my way over before i knew you were even up. i’m so fucking stupid, i don’t… i’m freaking out, eliott, i’m freaking the fuck out.”

_ he called me.  _ that must’ve been what woke him up, the sound of his phone ringing. and he didn’t even think to check and see if he had any texts or missed calls.  _ lucas isn’t the stupid one, i am.  _ how could he just leave lucas alone like that? lucas is always there for him, and eliott can’t even be there the one time lucas needs him?

“i’m sorry, baby. i love you.” eliott makes his way to the door, unlocking it so lucas won’t have to knock. “the door is open, so just let yourself in, okay? have you eaten?”

“no, i’m not hungry.” a few sharp, quick breaths. eliott can feel his heart breaking. “i can’t fucking  _ breathe  _ eliott, oh my god.”

“hey, just calm down. breathe with me, okay? don’t talk, just listen to how i breathe and try to match it.” 

eliott takes long, exaggerated deep breaths and hopes that lucas is copying him. he isn’t speaking anymore, so eliott figures he must be. he tries not to let the shakiness of his breath be heard through the phone, tries to keep it level. he knows that he needs to be strong for lucas this time. he owes lucas that much. 

“keep breathing like that. i’m going to make you some breakfast because you have to eat, alright? i know you don’t want to, but you need to. and i’m going to get you a glass of water, and if you’re up for it i can make some coffee later. but you just need to focus on breathing and walking, baby. that’s all.”

“okay.”

eliott our lucas back on speaker phone and listened to his heavy—but steady—breathing. he threw out his ruined eggs and started on new ones, only startling a bit when his mother wordlessly started making more toast. he shot her a grateful look, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. 

it wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. “it’s unlocked,” eliott says to the phone, reminding him, and almost immediately the door creaks open. eliott lets his mom take over the eggs so he can go to the door to get his boy. 

as soon as he rounds the corner, all of the wind is knocked out of him. lucas looks like  _ hell.  _ absolute, pure hell. he’s still in pajamas, his hair is a complete mess, and his face is streaked with tears. eliott feels like the absolute worst boyfriend in the world for not answering the phone and stopping him from coming all the way over to eliott’s in this state. 

lucas crumbles the second he sees eliott, falling into his arms. eliott, of course, is right there to accept him. he holds him tightly so lucas knows that he isn’t going anywhere, rubbing his back in smooth circles. he doesn’t ask lucas any questions or try to lead him into the kitchen to eat, he just lets lucas cry. he knows lucas needs it. everyone just needs a good cry, sometimes. 

“i’m sorry if i scared you,” lucas sobs, and eliott hushes him. “i just— i don’t know what to  _ do.  _ i’m the worst fucking son ever, i’m so scared and i—”

“hey, baby, shh. it’s okay. one thing at a time, alright?” he presses nine tiny kisses to lucas’s hair and then pulls back just enough so that he can reach to wipe lucas’s tears. “right now, let’s go to the kitchen and sit down. okay?”

lucas nods pathetically, so eliott leads him to the kitchen. thankfully, his mom has disappeared, leaving only the plate of food and two glasses of ice water on the table. eliott helps him sit down and then gives him the water, makes him drink it all. he then sets his own glass in front of lucas, but he doesn’t make him drink that one. 

“okay, now let’s focus on only one thing. first, why don’t you tell me how you feel physically? is anything hurting, are you cold, are you hot?”

“um… i have a bit of a headache,” lucas admits. 

eliott nods, standing up to grab some pain medicine from the cabinet. he gives it to lucas and, when lucas takes it, eliott encourages him to finish that glass of water, too. lucas does. 

“now we’ll go to what happened. can you tell me that, baby? can you tell me what’s hurting you?”

he knows, distantly, that he sounds a bit like a parent talking a child down from a tantrum. he hopes that lucas doesn’t feel that way. the last thing eliott wants is to make lucas feel babied—lord knows that’s the one thing eliott hates the most. but he does want lucas to feel loved and cared for, and he hopes he isn’t crossing that line. 

part of him is also worried that lucas will just get frustrated with him. a lot of the time, lucas just wants eliott’s sympathy and not his solutions. eliott understands that. he’s no stranger to getting sick and tired of unwanted ‘help’ and advice, to yelling at people to just let him be depressed and let him feel things. he’s also no stranger to going off on people for assuming that a bad mood or a bad day is immediately a sign of something bigger. 

_ not everything i do is a symptom, mom! sometimes i get sad, or mad, or upset, or frustrated, or happy! i can still feel normal things! i can still experience life like a normal person! i know my brain is fucked up but that doesn’t mean i’m some psycho! _

eliott shakes his head to snap himself out of it. now isn’t the time. right now is the time to hold lucas’s hand and figure out what he needs. and to do that, he needs to know what the hell is happening and why lucas is calling him crying at 6am on a tuesday. 

lucas sniffles, looking away so he doesn’t meet eliott’s eyes. it hurts eliott down to his core to see lucas do that. to see lucas hide from him, like he’s scared or embarrassed. eliott wishes there was some way for him to convey to lucas that he doesn’t have to feel embarrassed around eliott, that he can tell eliott literally anything without any fear of judgment.

but again, probably not the time. 

“i got some texts from my dad early this morning. i guess he sent them before going to work, or on the bus to work, i don’t know. he used to go to work early in the mornings, like, he’d be gone before i even woke up for school. but i guess i don’t really know if he’s still working there. we don’t talk about stuff like that. i mean, we hardly talk at all really, and—” he cuts himself off, giving eliott a quick apologetic look before turning his gaze away again. “sorry. i’m rambling.”

“don’t apologize. you’re perfectly okay, baby.”

another sniffle. “anyway, he texted me. and it was… god, it was so  _ mean.  _ i know i shouldn’t care what he says to me, because fuck him, he doesn’t know how to be a dad or a husband and he can go fuck right off if he thinks anything he says to me actually matters, but. i don’t know. it does matter, a little bit. i know i shouldn’t let it.”

“there’s no right way to feel,” eliott murmurs, scooting his chair closer to lucas’s. he rests one hand gently on lucas’s knee, just so he can feel it and know eliott is right there. always right there for him. “you’re allowed to feel hurt by things. you don’t have to justify it to me or anyone else. how you feel is important and real, and you should let yourself feel those things. as long as you don’t let it control you.”

“he doesn’t have that kind of power over me.”

“good. you’re the only one who should ever have that kind of power over yourself. nobody else. not your dad, not your teachers, not me. only you can feel what you feel.”

lucas looks up at him, then. he’s crying still, eyes brimming red with tears, but there’s a small smile on his lips. eliott counts it as a win. “i think what bothered me the most is that he dragged you into it,” lucas admits. eliott’s heart pangs with fear, but he forces himself to shove it down.  _ this isn’t about you.  _ “of course i hate the way he talks about mom, and about me. but you— you’re none of his business. you have nothing to do with it. and that’s how i know he’s just saying shit to hurt me, and it  _ does  _ hurt, but it hurts more that he thinks he can say that about you. nobody is allowed to say that shit about you, eliott. no one. i won’t let them.” there’s a fire in his eyes, burning deep and quickly, and eliott tightens his grip on lucas’s knee. “i let him say it, though. i’m sorry.”

“don’t apologize, it’s okay.”

“you can’t— you can’t say that! you can’t tell me not to apologize, you can’t say it’s okay. you don’t know what he said about you, you don’t know what i let him get away with saying.”

lucas digs his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it, and then pushes it across the table so eliott can read the texts. 

_ i know you’re angry with me, lucas, but this is ridiculous. how can you be so selfish?! you can’t even call your mother on her birthday?! she was very upset! i wish you would act like the adult you are and stop being so unfair to her.  _

_ is this because of that boyfriend of yours? this behavior is ridiculous, and if it’s because of him then you really need to rethink your choices. do you really think this will last? do you really think he loves you? FAMILY is forever, silly high school relationships are NOT.  _

_ i won’t put up with this any longer. call your mother lucas, and get your priorities in order. that boyfriend of yours isn’t worth all of this. you saw how me and your mother turned out, and it’ll be just the same for you. they’re just alike. and you, my son, are just like me. do you really think anyone will love you enough to overlook your shit? your mother couldn’t love me enough to make mine go away, and that boy certainly can’t love you enough. don’t delude yourself.  _

_ call your mother.  _

they’re the nastiest texts that eliott has ever read. it makes him physically sick to his stomach to see how a parent can talk to their child. and more so, it makes him sick to think that this is  _ normal _ for lucas ( _ normal is subjective! _ ), that he’s more concerned with one or two tiny comments about eliott than the entire thing talking shit about lucas himself. it makes his eyes burn with unwelcome tears. 

lucas notices. he snatches the phone back and then immediately pulls eliott into a hug. “shit, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you cry,” lucas whispers, and damn. eliott really is the world’s shiftiest boyfriend. 

“baby,” eliott murmurs, pushing lucas back, “i should be holding you right now. are you kidding me? those texts are— i can’t even believe i just read that. i can’t believe he talks to you like that, i can’t believe… god, lucas, do you have any idea how much i love you? i can’t comprehend how anyone in this world, much less your father, could go through life and not think you’re the sole reason that the universe exists. i don’t understand. god,  _ baby.” _ eliott throws his arms back around lucas and holds him tight again, trying to make the hurt go away. 

he knows he can’t. but he really wishes he could. he would take all of the hurt and feel it all of the time if he could, just so lucas doesn’t have to bear even 1% of it. 

“but he can’t even say your  _ name! _ he knows your name, eliott, why won’t he say it?!”

_ you know why.  _ “baby, this isn’t about me. this is about you. he said some really fucked up things and it’s okay to be hurt by them. i’m so fucking sorry. i wish there was something i could do to make it all go away. you know i would do it in a heartbeat.” he buries his face in lucas’s neck, and tries to rub lucas’s back as he cries to keep lucas from shaking too much. “i love you. i love you so much. everything he said is bullshit. you’re not selfish. how could you be? all you do is take care of me. you care about me and your mom and your friends more than you care about yourself. i’m the one that has to remind you to eat and drink water and shit! and this isn’t a silly high school relationship. this is the real deal, okay? this is love. he just doesn’t know that because he’s a fucking— sorry, i shouldn’t do that.”

lucas laughs a little, but it’s watery and quickly overtaken by sobs. eliott holds him impossibly tighter. 

“and he’s right, i could never love you enough to make your problems go away. but i don’t have to. just like you can’t love me enough to make my bipolar disorder go away. we all have problems, lucas. they’re a part of us. they can’t be loved away because they’re an important part of who we are. how we handle them is an even more important part. i love you for who you are. not in spite of your flaws, but because of them. i can’t fix them because they’re not mine to fix, they’re yours. and i love you no matter what. your mom does, too. we’re not going anywhere.”

“promise?”

“i promise,” eliott swears, and then pulls back. he cups lucas’s cheeks, wipes all of the tears on his sleeve and then presses a quick kiss to lucas’s lips. “i know you’re not hungry, so i won’t make you eat right now. but how about we go get in bed and sleep for a bit, okay? and when we wake up, we’ll get showers and eat and go to school a little late and you can text your dad to tell him to go fuck himself.”

lucas rolls his eyes. “maybe we can scratch that last part.”

“aw,” eliott pouts, “that was my favorite part.”

“really? not the cuddling part?”

“that was a close second.”

“ah, you make me feel so loved,” lucas teases. but then his face turns serious, and he presses a few gentle kisses to eliott’s lips this time. he tastes like tears. “no, but seriously, you do. thank you for talking me down. i don’t know what i would do without you.”

eliott grins, “good thing we’ll never know.”

“yeah,” lucas whispers, “i’m really fucking lucky.”

everything isn’t fixed. eliott knows that. he knows that he didn’t magically fix all of lucas’s broken parts with a few sweet words and a couple of kisses. that’d be naïve of him. lucas and his father have problems that run bone-deep, and will probably live on through lucas for the rest of his life. eliott doesn’t mind. he has bone-deep problems, too. skeletons in the closet that scare even him, even to this day. 

but there’s one thought through it all that makes it worth it: the scariest things to him are nothing to lucas. lucas would fight even the scariest of monsters to protect eliott, all of the demons from the cobwebs of eliott’s brain and all of the monsters from under his bed. lucas isn’t scared of any of them. and eliott isn’t scared of lucas’s. that’s why they go so well together, probably. it’s at least part of it. 

it’s nice to tuck lucas into his bed and know that all of lucas’s monsters are tucked under lucas’s bed back home, and that for now, lucas can get some sleep. he knows he can’t and didn’t fix it, he knows he never will. but being there for him is enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by @shipper-of-love on tumblr
> 
> find me on tumblr @elullemant


End file.
